Watch your language.

For most people, learning a new language, especially when an adult, is no easy task. I feel very comfortable with Spanish these days, but I don’t get many chances to use it or improve it. So what do you do when you have all this language knowledge in your brain, but it is starting to evaporate from lack of use? If that language is Spanish, you watch telenovelas. Latin American soap operas.

I know. You might be thinking, “Jill usually writes such a smart and sophisticated blog. Why is she writing about soap operas?” And I know I am probably risking my reputation as watcher of all things PBS, but please let me explain why telenovelas are so awesome.

Telenovelas allow you to hear native speakers use the language. You hear the accents, the cadence of phrasing, and the idioms that make a language more interesting. You hear slang and insults. You hear the different tenses used correctly. You hear romantic declarations and heartfelt speeches. You learn very useful phrases, like “¡Auxilio!” (Help!), “¡Sueltame!” (Let me go!), and “¿De dónde demonios sacaste esto?” (Where the hell did you get this?).

I have even gone so far as to make flashcards for the words I hear but do not yet know. Yes, I am serious – telenovela flashcards. In the past couple of months that I have been watching a telenovela again, my vocabulary has increased exponentially. All while being entertained by very good looking actors with amazing dental work.

Could I get this language assistance by simply watching the news in Spanish? No, I do not believe so because the news anchors and reporters talk a lot faster and in a more monotone manner. It’s not how people speak in normal conversation. I like to watch the news in Spanish sometimes, but I don’t get as much out of it that would help my overall language abilities.

Another reason I like telenovelas is because almost everyone I have ever met in a Latin American country likes them. I have watched them with most of my host families, even back when I hardly understood a thing. Telenovelas are the main form of programming. There are some that are just plain goofy as heck. There are some that are a little more dark and dramatic. And there are others that are more in the middle with the typical melodrama, and some comic relief thrown in now and again. Sure, some of the acting is over the top. The amount of crying is at times comical. The drama can be unbelievable, the fight scenes unrealistic.  But all that makes it even more enjoyable to watch. That is the world of telenovelas. And it is a fun part of the culture.

I think telenovelas are better than U.S. soaps because they actually have a beginning and an end. They only last a few months. Why do U.S. television networks allow shows (any shows, not just the soaps) to go on and on, for years and years? Enough already! Quit trying to squeeze more juice out of a dried up orange. Follow the example of the Latin American telenovela, where when someone dies, they die. They don’t die and then come back in the future, played by a different actor, all “I was kidnapped and held captive on an island for six years and had plastic surgery and now I look like this instead.” None of that. There is no adding on season after season just to make money. Because there will most certainly be another show after this one is over; another novela to bring in ad dollars. That is just how it is. No worries.

As unrealistic as this may be, at the end of telenovelas, the bad guys and gals get what is coming to them. They either go to prison, contract a horrible disease, lose all their money, die alone, or some other well-deserved consequence. Likewise, the good characters you have grown to love typically have happy endings. At the end there are newborn babies; recovery of stolen funds, ranches or companies; justice; reunions with long lost children; and a huge wedding for the main couple. It’s all wrapped up in a nice little bow. The end. It’s over. Move on to the next novela.

I was recently telling someone about my telenovela flashcard Spanish lessons and she said, “Wow, you must have a lot of free time.” Well, yes, I probably have more free time than a lot of people. But a telenovela only lasts an hour. I know most of you spend at least an hour each night watching TV anyway. Don’t act like you don’t.

So why not learn something while you’re watching? I mean, can you really learn how to dance the foxtrot by watching Dancing With The Stars? No, not really. And can you learn how to sing like Mariah Carey by watching American Idol? No, you can’t. But can you improve your Spanish by watching a telenovela? I am here to say “¡Sí! Se puede. Yes, you can!”

Take a trip without leaving your house.

The Oscars were just awarded last weekend and my marathon viewing of Best Picture nominees is finally over. I didn’t quite get to see them all, but it is a good motivation to see the movies getting most of the buzz. Typically, it is difficult to see any of the Best Foreign Film nominated movies before the Oscars because in most places in the U.S., they aren’t in the theaters. We have to wait until they come out on DVD.

In this blog, I have written about bad movies on buses in Latin America before (see this post). I have also suggested seeing movies, from the U.S. or elsewhere, when traveling in other countries (check this post). But today, I am going to suggest a few movies that you can view without your passport or an airline ticket.

The Motorcycle Diaries

This is a road trip movie, a road trip where a young man explores new and amazing places. It is the story of Ernesto “Che” Guevara before he became a revolutionary and pop culture icon. But the part that interests me the most is how traveling changed the way he viewed the world. He saw injustices and suffering people, and he didn’t just take a snap shot of them to take home and show his friends and family. He immersed himself in an effort to help people and make a difference. It was inspiring to see this young and altruistic Che, as opposed to the way he is often depicted: comrade of Fidel Castro and enemy of the CIA. Plus, the scenery and music are divine.  

Here is the movie trailer:

Sin Nombre and Un Pasaje de Ida

Immigration reform is one of the hot topics in the U.S. right now and there are plenty of people on both sides of the issue. Some folks call undocumented immigrants “illegals,” but I really hate that term. It sounds so inhumane. And the truth of the matter is people who come to the United States, legally or not, are looking for a better life. And they will do anything to find that better life, even putting themselves in extreme danger.

The following are two movies that demonstrate what people go through to get to the American dream. Think about how difficult their lives must be in their home countries to risk it all in these ways.

Here is the trailer for Sin Nombre, a movie that along with crossing borders, also delves into the world of the Mexican gang world. Some people make the journey to start a new life. Others do so to escape the past.

Here is a link to the movie Un Pasaje de Ida, in its entirety. This is a Dominican film from 1989 and the quality here is very poor. Nevertheless, it is worth seeing. We forget that not all people seek their dreams by land. And not everyone makes it to the other side.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cg0bMa6ALik

Guatanamera

Most everyone has heard the song, “Guantanamera” (if not, it is at the beginning of the film link below), but here is a movie by the same name. Guantanamera means “woman from Guantánamo,” and no! I don’t mean the U.S. military detention and interrogation camp. I mean the province in Cuba where actual Cuban people live their lives -- people like those depicted in this movie. It’s another road trip film (I am the Wandering Güera afterall), this time with a group trying to get a deceased loved one to Havana, with touching and comical trials and tribulations along the way. It is one of the many charming Cuban films I have come to love.

I tried to find a trailer, but instead found the entire movie here: 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A9sR4c44vTg

There are so many amazing foreign films out there, from all over the world. They have a special flavor to them that is different than U.S. movies. I love many movies from the U.S. But seeing films about other countries and cultures that are made by people in those countries and cultures is another wonderful way to see the world when you cannot cross any borders yourself.  So pop some of your own poporopos, get comfy on the couch, and escape to another world.

Don’t let mosquitoes bug you.

It is the end of January and I have a mosquito bite on my arm. At least I think it is a mosquito bite. Even in Texas it seems strange to have a mosquito bite in January, but I know it’s possible. You see, today the temperature here was 81º F. While my family and friends in the north are freezing their earmuffs off, I am wearing flip-flops and sunscreen. Life just isn’t fair, is it?

Back to the mosquitoes. I have mentioned some not-so-desirable creatures you might encounter when traveling in Latin America (see this post here). But I didn’t mention mosquitoes. We have plenty of mosquitoes here in the U.S. during the warm months, that is for sure. They are sometimes like small birds, swarming in Hitchcockian-fashion, making us run inside for cover.  And they can cause more than itchy bites. West Nile has become more of a problem in the U.S. in recent years, not to mention Eastern equine encephalitis. But mosquitoes abroad are a whole other story, more diverse in what they pass on to their human prey.

I am not really qualified to get into the science of mosquito-borne illness, but suffice it to say that it is possible to get dengue fever, yellow fever, and malaria when you travel to certain parts of the world. No matter where you go, be prepared. 

Before your travels, go to a travel clinic and get the proper immunizations and medicine for where you are going. You should speak to a doctor who specifically practices travel medicine. These doctors have extensive information on anywhere you wish to travel and can best advise you on how to stay healthy. They can also give you prescribed medication that will help with such things as the dreaded traveler’s diarrhea (which I once mentioned here) or malaria prevention. Some countries also require you to have certain immunizations to enter, so a travel clinic is the best bet to make sure you also have the necessary medical documents for your trip.

To avoid these mosquito-borne diseases, an additional option is to take along mosquito repellant – there are some that are stronger than the kind you typically buy at the drug store before heading to a barbeque or picnic. There are also sprays specifically for clothes and sleeping bags. If you do not wish to use such chemicals, a mosquito net is another way to protect yourself, at least while you sleep. In regions where mosquitoes are prevalent and air conditioners scarce, many hostels, hotels and guesthouses have mosquito netting over their beds. But if you plan to stay in more rustic places and you want that security, netting doesn't take up too much space in your backpack.

Here is a great resource from the Centers for Disease Control to use when you are getting ready to travel. It even suggests when you should go to a travel clinic (your immunizations need time to take effect) and lists what you need health-wise for any country in the world: http://wwwnc.cdc.gov/travel/page/vaccinations.htm 

There are other illnesses that do not come from mosquitoes (like typhoid) that you can also get immunized for before traveling. And more illnesses than the three I mentioned that come from mosquitoes or other insects. But don’t let this knowledge freak you out. Really. It’s not like Land of the Lost down there where giant bugs pick you up and keep you captive in their hives (see demonstrative, but fictional clip below). Just be aware of the punch those little buggers can pack.

Feel the burn.

Today for lunch I had a vegetarian hotdog (don’t make fun) with all the typical things we in the U.S. put on our hotdogs: mustard, neon green relish (why is it that color?), tomato, pickle (in addition to the relish which is, theoretically, made out of pickles), and-- because I am in Texas-- hot peppers. They weren’t chopped hot peppers or sliced hot peppers. They were just two, cute little hot peppers, sitting on top of the dog. But their cuteness was deceiving. They were pretty hot. 

Hot peppers have grown in popularity in the U.S. in the past few years. Salsa is supposedly the most popular condiment in the country now, overtaking the long-reigning champion, ketchup (or catsup). The level of hotness of said peppers depends a lot on where you are in the country. “Hot Salsa” way up north can actually be very mild. It can taste like tomatoes with some other stuff thrown in there. But “mild salsa” in Texas can sometimes still burn the paint off the side of a barn. It just depends.

People often associate this spiciness with Mexican food. And they should. Because they’ve got some hot shit down there. But I like hot and have a pretty high tolerance. Not as high as someone in Mexico who eats hot peppers like breath mints. Not as high as my brother who has lived in Texas for a very long time. But a decent level. I spent a Christmas in Mexico several years ago. And as a vegetarian (with nary a veggie-dog in sight), I often ate cheese enchiladas. Fantastic cheese enchiladas. Like here in Texas, I could choose from different sauces to put on top of the enchiladas. Whereas here green salsa (salsa verde) is typically pretty mild, in Mexico it has some heat. So much, in fact, that waiters often questioned my order. Once, with my friend Arturo (see blog post about Arturo’s family here) and I encountered such a waiter.

“But it’s hot, Miss.”

-- Yes, I know. That’s okay. I want the salsa verde.

As if he had not understood a word of my Spanish he responded,

“But it’s hot, Miss.”

 --- Um, I know. Don’t worry. I like it.

And then he looked at my friend as if to say, “Help me out here, amigo. This gringa is trying to order the hottest sauce and she doesn’t seem to understand the pain that is about to rain down upon her delicate güera constitution.”

And Arturo said, “Don’t worry. She knows.”

So salsa verde is what I got. It was hot, don’t get me wrong. I could feel sweat beading up on my upper lip and under my eyes. But I can take it, mi hijo. Está bien.

One thing to be aware of is that sometimes the tiniest of peppers are the most deadly to your tongue. I had two such types of peppers in Guatemala, only because the men of my host family were into spicy food. Everyday, my host “mother” made a little bowl of salsa for her 93-year-old father-in-law (go here to see a photo of Don Rafa). It was made with teeny, tiny green peppers that packed a real punch. If there was any leftover at lunch (yes, he ate it for breakfast), she would let me have it. Loved it!

These are one kind of hot little peppers
I had in Guatemala. If you know what
they're called, let me know in the comments

Another time, for a graduation party, they had tamales. The entire extended family was there and so was a mountain of tamales with various fillings. There were a couple vegetarian choices, and I was enjoying one when I discovered this little, skinny red pepper in the middle of my tamal. I pulled it out, showed it to the family and announced that I was going to try it, positioning the pepper in such a way that implied I was just going to pop the whole thing into my mouth (and I was). In unison, they all yelled, “No, no, no! Poquito, poquito.” So I took a tiny little taste and whoosh, a fire burned a trail down my throat. 

Here I am, learning to make salsa from
my hostess, Miriam. 

Once, I was having a Tex-Mex lunch with my brother at a local chain restaurant in Austin called Serranos. Yes, after the pepper. They put an actual serrano pepper on every plate. It is a larger pepper, not like the little devils I had in Guatemala. So I thought it was more like a jalapeño, which for me is on the mild side. On this day, I asked my brother, “Should I try this?” And he just said, “If you want,” although I noticed he was not eating his serrano pepper. Nevertheless, I took a little bite. Un poquito. But even before I started chewing it, I had to spit it out. It was burning my entire mouth. Even my teeth hurt. My teeth! I ate chips, chips and more chips. The burning continued. And it remained for some time after. I hadn’t even chewed or swallowed any of that pepper! Can you imagine if I had? 

¡Ay chihuahua!

I don’t know how you feel about spicy food or hot food or salsa picante. I have a friend who cannot take it at all. She hates it. I think it tastes totally different to her taste buds than it does to mine. Because even if it burns a bit, I like it. In any case, when you are traveling to other lands, you may be surprised that there are things much, much hotter than the Fire sauce packets at Taco Bell. Have fun and try as much as you can handle. But beware that you may be biting off more than you can chew.

Happy Holidays to all of you! See you in 2013!  

Relax!

When did we women in the U.S. become so busy that we need to have someone else do our nails? I don’t know when this happened, but now there are nail salons everywhere and there are women who go regularly. Yes, it’s true, things are very busy and hectic in this country. We do not relax as much as we should. We do not take enough time off from work. We have very few vacation days and some people don’t ever even use them (what is that all about?). Maybe this manicure/pedicure thing is a little vacation.

Maybe spas are as well. They are also everywhere these days. Beauty salons have them. Hotels have them. Casinos have them. They are a great way to get some pampering. There is nothing like a massage to work out all that stress. Mud baths and body wraps supposedly do wonders. And facials are a luxury for some (although I personally hate it when anyone touches my face, especially constantly and continually with greasy hands over several minutes. No thanks.)

When I was in Ecuador, I took a weekend trip to the town of Baños with some friends from my Spanish school. Baños is a town with many hot spring and steam sources (hence the name, which means “Baths”). Our hotel had “hot baths” on the top floor. Now this was no fancy, schmancy hotel. It was inexpensive and simple. And the hot bath was very economical, even for us students.

My friend Naomi and I went up to the top of the hotel in our bathing suits. We each got inside a box, where we sat down, our bodies enclosed, and our heads sticking out of the top. (Wasn’t there an old cartoon where someone got into a steam box one size and came out much, much smaller?)

Then the steam was upon us. It was hot. Really, really hot. When it got so hot we thought we were going to melt into a puddle, attendants opened the box and had us get out. We stepped a few feet in front of the boxes and they ladled cool water all over us, using downward hand motions (to guide out the toxins perhaps). Then we got back in the box for another steamy, hot experience. This cycle happened about three times. After the final steam, we were guided outside to the roof terrace, where other guests were relaxing after their baths. We were told to stand by a wall and then they hosed us down with more cool water. My friend screamed. I contemplated the daily routines of women’s prisons. Then we were done.

And this is what we got out of it: baby soft skin. I mean super soft. My skin had never been so silky smooth. It was also very relaxing despite all the hot, cold, hot, cold business.

This experience inspired me to seek out something different than a usual spa when I traveled to San Francisco with some girlfriends a few years ago. I knew there was a strong Asian influence in the Bay Area and I wanted to do something cultural, not just eat some great Asian food. I was initially thinking some kind of acupuncture or something similar in China Town. But then a male friend who lives in SF suggested a Korean spa some of his female friends had been to and recommended. So we made reservations for massages.

Included in our massage price was access to a steam room, sauna, hot tub, and showers. This was a “women only” spa, so although we each had terry cloth bathrobes to use, we could just walk around naked. Because that's what people do. 

Then the massage ladies called us upstairs. We were led into a room with what I can only describe as stainless steel tables covered with large plastic sheets. It looked like a place where autopsies were performed. There were another two guests on two of the tables (alive thankfully, but in the same room). The massage ladies told us to take off our robes and lie down. This is when my friend Susan whispered to me, “I’m going to kill you.”

So, there we were, naked, lying face down on plastic sheets and metal gurneys. Horrible, right? Wrong. These women began pouring warm water all over us. Not too hot, but warm enough to feel great. Water was flying everywhere, which explained the plastic sheeting. It also explained why the massage ladies were only wearing their underwear: bras and panties. Any clothing would have been drenched. We later wondered why bathing suits weren’t worn instead. And believe me, these undergarments were worn very modestly. If you know what “granny panties” are, then you get my drift.

Next, wearing some kind of loofah gloves (not sure because I couldn’t see), the massagers started exfoliating the hell out of us. All over our bodies. We were loofah’d in places we didn’t even know could be loofah’d. Then they switched to a regular massage (no loofah gloves), working out the tension we had developed from being naked on plastic covered metal tables in a room full of strangers and being loofah’d within an inch of our lives. Then they switched to warm oil. I don’t recall how long this all went on. It had to have been close to an hour, after which we were lying on our backs, when they rinsed off the oil, massaged our heads, and poured warm milk all over us, including our hair. Then we were rinsed off with more ladled warm water and we were done. Pretty silky smooth after this one, too.

My friend Laurel had been by herself in another room, getting a different treatment because she was pregnant. When she came down to the hot tub, she said in amazement, “That was the best thing that has ever happened to me!”

Yeah. It was pretty awesome. Crazy, but awesome.

As I usually do, I will suggest that when you are traveling, whether in your own country or abroad, try to experience different things than what you are accustomed to at home. Don’t just go to a spa that is like a spa you would find in your own town or city. Try something new. But as always, be cautious. Some “spas” have seedy reputations. Do your homework or get recommendations from people you trust. Check websites for customer feedback. Just like you would at home. But take a chance to try something new. You may end up more relaxed than ever. And softer than a baby’s bottom! 

Leave your heart behind, but not your meds.

When you are planning a trip, especially one overseas, a very important thing to remember is your medication, specifically your prescription medication. If traveling within the United States, forgetting your meds may seem like a really bad thing initially. But if you live in the U.S., all you need to do is have your pharmacy at home contact a pharmacy where you are visiting and you’re all set. No problem.

Not so when in another country. There are some medications you can purchase over-the-counter (without a doctor’s prescription) in pharmacies/farmacias/drug stores/whatever else they may be called in other countries. I have heard of people going to Mexico for cheaper medications for everything from prescription skincare to erectile dysfunction medication. But if you are on a daily, or even weekly, medication for a health condition, you need to be sure that you not only pack it, but that you pack enough for the entire trip. Because if you run out, you are up the proverbial creek without a paddle.

I would also suggest that to avoid any issues with immigration in any country (including your own), keep prescribed medication in the original bottles. It’s probably not a good idea to dump them all in a ziplock plastic bag so you save space in your luggage. I’m all for saving space when packing for travel, but a little baggie full of pills just doesn’t look good, officially speaking.

Unfortunately, I cannot speak to anything beyond pills. If you have diabetes and require insulin injections or have another health condition that requires injections of any kind, then please do your homework, talk to your physician, talk to a travel clinic in your home country, and make sure you do what is necessary to stay healthy during your travels.

In regard to other medications, such as pills, you also need to remember them when you leave your hotel or hostel or guesthouse. You’re thinking, “No duh.” But honestly, sometimes you are in a hurry to catch a bus or another flight and you leave the little things behind. Like pills.

When I was in central Mexico, staying in a simple but charming family-run guesthouse, I became friends with a young Danish couple staying there. They weren’t married, but they often told the older locals that they were so their cohabitation wasn’t frowned upon. The same morning they left for the bus station to continue traveling through the country, I heard a knock on my door. It was the maid. She was an extremely sweet person. Very friendly and she helped me when I suffered from stomach bacteria (see stories about stomach woes here). But this particular morning, she was upset about something. Shaking a small plastic disc in my face she declared, “That couple was using birth control! That is a sin! They are not supposed to use these! I cannot believe it!” And on and on.

My first thought was, “Oh no, they aren’t going to have birth control for the rest of their trip! They are going to freak out!” (My second thought was, "How does the maid know those are birth control pills if she is so against them?" But I digress ...).

I managed to calm the maid down a bit, telling her that sometimes doctors prescribe birth control for health reasons, not just to prevent pregnancy (which is true, of course, even if it wasn’t in this case). Then I said, “Here, let me take care of those for you,” and took the packet as I patted her back and diplomatically nodded my head. I already had plans to go to the bus station that day because I was checking out transportation options for my mother’s upcoming visit. I decided to go earlier to see if I could catch the Danes and save them from possible problems, like, say ... an unplanned pregnancy.

When I got to the bus station, they were happy to see me since we didn’t get to say good-bye that morning. But the woman was even happier when I showed her the pack of pills she left behind and asked, “Did you forget something?” Tough situation avoided. Sinful tourists – 1. Devout maid – 0.

Ladies, I suggest you keep that particular type of “medication” in your makeup bag or something, rather than out on a countertop or table. Not only will you avoid leaving it behind, but you will avoid any potential culture clashes that are simply too difficult to explain in any language. Keep your birth control to yourself, if you know what I mean. Not all locals in more traditional countries hold the same view as the maid I mention, but why risk such drama?

For other types of medication, it is just important to not only bring it along, but to bring enough. You are taking it for a reason. Don’t let forgetting it make your trip memorable for the wrong reasons. 

Let it rain.

It is dry in Central Texas. Very dry. This has been the case for many areas of the U.S. this summer. And last year, too. I have developed a new appreciation for the wet stuff from the sky. A nice, steady rain that soaks in and pitter-patters on the roof would be welcome. I would especially welcome the kind of rain I have experienced in Central America.

I have written about the cold climes of Latin America (see here), and the hot ones as well (here). Many places I have been in Central America have two seasons: rainy and dry (or muddy and dusty as the case may be). The rainy season I experienced in the hot, tropical areas of Costa Rica, Nicaragua and Panama did not include days and days of unending rains. The days were hot, pretty much like the dry season. But typically in the afternoon, it would rain like the dickens for a while. It came down in buckets. Within minutes, the streets were running with water. If you stepped into the street, your shoes would get soaked. Even with an umbrella, you would get drenched. If indoors, the rain battered the rooftops so loudly that you could not have a conversation with anyone.

This is a nice, hard rain I experienced while staying with
a family in Granada, Nicaragua. This is the uncovered
laundry area (notice the pila in the corner) and my room
was to the left, where the floor was covered with water.

On my first trip to Costa Rica, I was with a group. It was during rainy season, so the afternoon rains came after we had completed our work at a house construction site. So much rain came down, that some of the young women in my group ran outside to wash their hair in the downpour.  

There are places in the U.S. where these types of rainstorms happen. I experienced strong rains years ago in the Houston area. If I was driving, I sometimes pulled over to wait out the storm because my windshield wipers couldn’t keep up and I couldn’t see a thing in front of me. There are also places in the U.S. where the rain is regular, consistent, and at times unrelenting. But I have never lived in those places and can only imagine what that is like (maybe a little too dreary for me).

I did hear about a person from the Pacific Northwest who moved to Austin only to be bothered by all the sunshine. It is so sunny here so often that this person found it strange and uncomfortable. For the first time, she had to wear sunglasses regularly; she had to think about sunscreen with a higher SPF; she even wore big hats when at an outdoor events.

Yes, the sunshine is pretty predictable here. You wouldn’t know that from the meteorologists on the local news. They say things like, “If you don’t like the weather in Central Texas, just wait a minute,” a quote that is actually attributed to Mark Twain speaking about New England. Since New England actually has four seasons, and a cranky Atlantic ocean whipping its shores, in Texas (at least in Central Texas for the past couple years) it might be more appropriate to say, “If you don’t like the weather, too damn bad!”  

If you travel to a place that has a different climate, different weather patterns, different temperatures than at home, enjoy the difference. If you are from hot and dry Central Texas and are spending some time in hot and wet Panama, get those shoes wet, walk without an umbrella, shampoo your hair outside in the rain. If you are from a place where it rains frequently and the sun is a stranger, enjoy that sunny beach you are visiting, bask in its glow, soak up that Vitamin D (but always use sunscreen!). If you are visiting a place that is so hot you feel like you could melt, then find some local cool cocktails (like I did here).  As I have said before, enjoy what is different. This weekend may be gloomy and rainy in Austin, but that gloom and rain is welcome out of necessity. When you're traveling, the weather is part of the experience, even if your original plans get washed away.